


rebound ethics

by verulams (finnlogan)



Series: rebound ethics [1]
Category: The Matrix (Movies)
Genre: F/M, How Do I Tag, Humanity, Kinda, Machines, Robot Feels, Self-Discovery, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23703349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnlogan/pseuds/verulams
Summary: Neo is introspective because after a point that was all hehad. He is introspective because that is all there is. He is not, he tells himself, introspective because he was turning into a machine.
Relationships: Thomas Anderson | Neo/Trinity
Series: rebound ethics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106630
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	rebound ethics

**Author's Note:**

> Did a Matrix rewatch a lil while back, forgot how much I loved it. Robot/Machine feels, baby.

In his head, he sorts things through colours. There’s green in the matrix, in the code, and in the way it splits and morphs with him.

There’s blue in the real world. In the place where there’s ports in his head and dreams in his brain that he can’t quite get out.

When he fights, it’s easy. The grey suits tinged green as he beats the shit out of unbeatable foes. Upgraded, he thinks. Maybe there’s something about it that’s mythical, religious, methodical, or maybe there’s something about it that reeks of machinery. It’s hard to know, these days.

Zion is blue too. Sometimes it’s yellow, backlit and shining. That’s when it’s at it’s best, he thinks, and he thinks of Trinity and he unclenches his jaw.

What’s clear is that if he’s some kind of saviour, he’s a very quiet one. People flock to him, believers. As if he was anything important.

But he is, though. Isn’t he? Important?

Is he?

There are offerings at his door, people believe in him. Is that enough?

Would anything be enough?

***

Green lines of code split him. It’s like he’s walking into a wall or a sea, bottle green and vast. It would be unsettling if it wasn’t so- Well. If it wasn't so...

He doesn't know, isn't sure. He is so often unsure.

It’s who he is, he guesses. Someone he has always been.

He feels it in his jaw, he feels it in his insides, and the way he moves and the steps he takes.

Beating Smith to shreds is not easy. But it’s expected.

What the fuck _is_ Smith?

***

It’s like he’s losing some part of him that was once integral. A part of him that gave Smith the finger, that first time. The way he’d tried to leave that car. The way he’d looked at Trinity that first time.

He feels stupid, feels like he’s the least intelligent in the room. He beats the agents to pulp and then speaks to programs designed to _know_ things. He never _knows._

_He feels it in his jaw._

***

So quick to anger, now. Was he always like that?

***

There’s something about the Merovingian. Knowledge. The way things work, causality. Something something, cause, and effect. It’s irritating, gets under his skin in a way most things don’t, these days. And then-

***

He wakes up. His dreams are odd, recently, split wildly between Trinity and-

He doesn’t remember. Something important, he thinks, but he doesn’t quite know. It’s lost to him. Like so many things are, these days.

He kisses her, deeply, meaningfully. There’s something to it that speaks of desperation, but that seems to be normal for them. No way of knowing how long any moment would last.

She is soft, harsh, stark and desperate as he is.

God, he loves her.

***

“Stay,” he whispers. It’s spoken into the bolted port in the back of her neck.

“Yes,” she says, into him. He melts against her, nothing but neurons and code-sparks. “Yes.”

***

He is cold and white and he spits out blood like a human. He is irrevocably not-that. There is no escape from it. He is something beyond human and something less than human.

He is so fucking cold.

There is nothing he can do about it, and it clings to every word he says. Not quite human, anymore. Not _just_ a man, never that. Not a program, never _ever_ that.

Not a person, not really.

He is _so fucking cold._

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me @[ finnlogan ](//finnlogan.tumblr.com) or @ my fic blog [verulamfic](https://verulamfic.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. I am taking requests on my fic blog!


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